Excerpts

Introduction Even as a kid I enjoyed ir de tapeo, or the tradition of going from one tapas bar to the next, in San Sebastián with my parents and their friends. In my earliest memories of those days, I first see a wall of legs on a floor littered with sawdust, toothpicks, cigarette butts, and shrimp shells, and then my father sweeps me up so I can sample from the awesome display of food on the bar. When I was older and seated at a table in a restaurant, I chafed at having to mind my manners and to wait for each course to arrive, but at the tapas bars I was free. I could take anything I wanted from the platters of child-sized portions-maybe a piece of chorizo, a square of tortilla española, or a hard-boiled egg, along with a Fanta soda-and run off down the street to play with my sister and the other children, before catching up with my parents at the next tasca (tavern). I still like the freedom from formal dining that tapas bars offer, though now as an adult I also appreciate them for their conviviality-as places where people from all walks of life can get together for lively conversation, a glass of wine, and premeal, postmeal, or even full-meal bites. In Spain, tapas specialties vary from region to region and are commonly eaten with knife and fork while seated at a counter. In the Basque region, where I grew up, tapas are known as pintxos, the Basque spelling (pronounced PEEN-chos), or pinchos in Spanish (from the word pinchar, which means "to skewer") and are typically finger foods eaten in one or two bites while standing up. Indeed, the tapas tradition is so strong in the Basque Country that a hard-fought competition, complete with strict rules defining the size of the pintxos, is held annually. Some pintxos are quite basic, maybe just some cubes of chorizo or cheese on toothpicks. Others are more elaborate, such as small sandwiches (bocadillos), plates of fried seafood (fritos), or little earthenware dishes (cazuelitas) of various braises (estofados). And always in San Sebastián you will find creative bite-size combinations of meat, cheese, vegetables, and/or fruit, either threaded onto skewers (pintxos) or placed on top of small slices of bread (montaditos). But whether you call them by their Spanish name tapas or Basque name pintxos, it is the casual way they are served that makes these small plates synonymous with a relaxed, fun-filled atmosphere. Even though informality and spontaneity are the hallmarks of a good tapas bar, the food they serve is taken seriously, and every bar has its specialty or specialties. I can't count the number of times I have been involved in an intense discussion of politics or soccer while sipping Txacolí (a mildly effervescent Basque wine), only to have to stop and say "My God, that pintxo is good!" Of course, many cultures have their little dishes, such as Greek meze, Cantonese dim sum, and Italian antipasti, but the Spanish have turned the concept of small plates into both a social event and a culinary art form. Spaniards still like to debate the origin of the tapa, but most agree that the first tapas were created in Andalusia to serve a practical purpose: to keep flies out of glasses of sherry. Tapa means "lid" and is derived from the word tapar, "to cover," so the commonsense theory is that tavern owners would drape a slice of ham or cheese or place a small plate of olives or almonds on top of a glass to create a barrier against bugs. Eventually, the bars with the better "covers" began attracting more customers, and a competition soon developed among owners to see who could create the tastiest tidbits. Not surprisingly, patrons began to move from one bar to the next to sample their offerings. Tapas also served two other seemingly contradictory functions: a few salty nibbles not only increased patrons' thirst for more wine, but also helped to keep them from getting drunk, a serious transgression in polite Spanish society. It is ironic that from such humble beginnings an entire culture-a kind of traveling street party-has been created around the bars that serve tapas, and food that was once so simple has become, in many cases, not only baroque but also frequently global. This is particularly true in San Sebastián, a popular resort city, where some of the most delicious, and in recent years, innovative tapas have been created. Although San Sebastián still harbors old-school tapas made from unique Spanish ingredients, such as marinated boquerones (anchovies) or slices of serrano ham cured by the tapas bar owner's wife, I now often find myself shaking my head in wonder at the elaborately stacked, decorated, and skewered pintxos fashioned from foie gras from France, balsamic vinegar from Modena, or smoked salmon from Norway. Some of these tapas are miniature culinary works of art, influenced by the nueva cucina revolution in Spain, and although the chef in me admires the cutting-edge creativity now happening in my homeland, I must confess that the small dishes I crave are the simple ones, the ones that I loved as a child: a piece of bacalao (salt cod) on a toasted baguette slice, or some calamari quickly seared a la plancha. After I returned to California from a trip to San Sebastián in 2003, I couldn't stop thinking about all the wonderful food I had enjoyed there, particularly the seafood, which is arguably the best in the world, and the pintxos, both traditional and contemporary. That trip convinced me that it was the right time for me to open a true tapas bar in San Francisco. When I opened Bocadillos in 2004, I had a clear and simple vision in mind: For selfish reasons, I wanted to create the kind of place where I could go with friends to enjoy a glass or two of wine and a few delicious nibbles. I also wanted a space that allowed me to indulge my passion for the foods and style of eating I loved. That meant it had to be a Spanish-styled tapas bar, as authentic as possible, using mainly fresh local ingredients and incorporating some global culinary influences. After all, I have lived in California for most of my adult life and have broadened the scope of my cooking. Today, Bocadillos has evolved into my kind of place. It's informal and comfortable, and serves food that is true to my Basque culinary heritage, yet incorporates the ingredients and culinary influences of California. Our wine list, made up mostly of Spanish, Basque, and California bottles, complements the food. About three years after opening Bocadillos, I came home from an afternoon of bike riding to find that my wife, Cameron, had invited a few friends over for an impromptu Sunday dinner. What to do? Quickly I searched the pantry and discovered the makings of a tapas party. I had a couple of cans of ventresca tuna and some piquillo peppers. In the refrigerator, next to a leftover beet salad from the night before, was a piece of serrano ham and some greens from the farmers' market, along with a chunk of Idiazábal cheese and a jar of Spanish olives. I drove to the store and picked up fresh bread and lamb chops. Within an hour, our guests were gathering around the kitchen island and I was serving them wine and the sliced ham, olives, and cheese. As everyone was getting happy from the wine and finger food, I stuffed the peppers with the tuna, grilled the lamb, and tossed the beets with the greens. Finally and barely breaking a sweat, I put out the finished dishes, along with some small plates and flatware, and then I let my guests help themselves. That evening's menu was the genesis of this book. Maybe because I own two restaurants in San Francisco, friends assume that I must be eating "gourmet" meals every night. But the truth is that I feel lucky on the rare occasion when I can even join my family for dinner during the week, and our weekends are so jam-packed with soccer games and my restaurant events that entertaining has become a luxury. I realized that the dishes I serve at Bocadillos and, in smaller portions, the food from Pipérade, my Basque restaurant, is what I like to serve at home for casual occasions. And it is easy to do. You need only to buy some good charcuterie and cheese, open a can or jar, and make one or two braised or grilled dishes and a salad and you will have a no-fuss, fast-to-assemble dinner for four, six, eight, or more. What you will find in the pages that follow are recipes for the small-plate dishes I make at my restaurants that can be prepared quickly and easily at home. What you won't find are complicated chef's recipes-okay, I admit to a couple of exceptions-with lots of steps and obscure ingredients. In the years that have passed since I wrote The Basque Kitchen in 1999, ingredients that were once difficult to obtain, such as serrano ham, smoked paprika, piment d'Espelette, and Basque sheep's milk cheeses, have become almost commonplace in better food markets and are easy to buy online. The chapters in the book are organized to roughly parallel the Bocadillos menu, with recipes divided primarily into categories by technique, presentation, or ingredients. I begin with A La Plancha, an age-old Spanish method-particularly popular in the Basque region-in which meats and seafood are seared on a hot griddle (traditionally a cast-iron plate placed over a wood fire). The two other technique-based chapters are Estofados, which includes stews and braises, and Fritos, the crispy fried bites that are invariably the first to disappear from the table. Ingredient-based chapters are Habas, which features fresh and dried shelling beans, staples of the Basque diet, and Organos, which is called the Innard Circle on the Bocadillos menu. The Spanish have long treasured the parts of the animal that many Americans discard, but I have noticed that more and more of our customers are trying innards, and I have included the recipes for the most popular dishes at the restaurant. Ensaladas and Sopas, or salads and soups, are not traditional tapas, but they reflect the influence California has had on my cooking. The remaining three chapters are my favorites: Pintxos and Montaditos, or tapas on skewers and tapas on bread, and Bocadillos, or little sandwiches. Finally, you'll find a Pantry chapter, which is a glossary of basic ingredients and preparations you'll need to stock your kitchen to prepare dishes from the book. When planning a menu, keep in mind that all of the recipes are flexible. Most of them can be made ahead of time, many are served at room temperature, and quantities can often be increased or decreased to suit the size of your group. Also, many of the recipes can do double duty as hors d'oeuvres. For a tapas spread, I suggest choosing one recipe from five or six different chapters, perhaps an a la plancha dish, a braise, a salad, a soup, a pintxo, and a frito, or you can also select one of your own favorite recipes and turn it into a tapa, using my recipes for inspiration. This book is about my kind of soul food. It is about the foods I grew up with and the foods I have cooked over the years. It is about real ingredients and authentic flavors. Most of all it is about breaking bread and clinking glasses with the people you love. So in the true spirit of ir de tapeo, I urge you to invite some friends over, choose a few recipes, go to the store, and get in the kitchen. Then before you know it, you will have a party. Oh, and don't forget to open the wine. Hopefully, you will have done that already. About Wine The wine-pairing suggestions that accompany recipes in this book are limited to wines from Spain, the Basque Country of Spain and France, and California. Many incredible wines are now being produced in wine-growing regions around the world, so why the exclusivity? The answer is a venerable culinary axiom: what grows together goes together. It is a sound philosophy not only for matching foods, such as fava beans and asparagus, or beets and potatoes, but also for matching foods with wines. Think of foie gras with Sauternes, Bolognese sauce with Sangiovese di Romana, and, of course, tapas with sherry. The wines from Spain and the Basque Country are natural matches with the gutsy, flavorful ingredients that go into all of my dishes. And because the agricultural riches of my adopted home continue to inspire me with new ideas in the kitchen, California wines and my recipes are an equally felicitous marriage. Spaniards have always enjoyed wine, drinking it with nearly every meal-sometimes even taking a sip of sherry after breakfast. Thanks to the British, sherry has enjoyed centuries of worldwide recognition, but few other Spanish wines have matched that glory, other than the red wines of Rioja and the cavas, or sparkling wines, of Catalonia. Historically, the rough, high-alcohol reds and low-acid whites of Spain were drunk-and appreciated-only by the Spanish. But in the mid-nineteenth century, when phylloxera devastated many of their vineyards, French vintners began migrating to Spain, where they planted grapes, mainly in the areas of Navarre, Rioja, and Catalonia, and introduced more modern production techniques. Slowly the quality of Spanish wine began to improve, only to have the political turmoil of the twentieth century bring progress almost to a halt. However, with the death of dictator Francisco Franco in 1975, which ended nearly four decades of iron-fisted rule, Spain began the transition to democracy, and Spanish vintners once again set about improving the quality of their wines. Today, Spain is the third largest wine producer in the world, behind France and Italy, with the United States fourth. Of course, marvelous wines are being made in every corner of the country, but the Basque region, with its three historical provinces in France (Labourd, Lower Navarre, and Soule) and four historical provinces in Spain (Biscay, Gipuzkoa, Araba, and Navarre), is an up and coming player on the world wine stage. The most notable wines from the Spanish side are the classic Rioja Tempranillos, the wines of Navarre (especially those made from the Garnacha grape), and the sprightly Txacolí, made just outside San Sebastián. The French side offers robust alternatives with its white and red Irouléguy wines. The best wines of Spain have an appellation designation, or DO (Denominación de Origen), of which there are currently sixty-six, and there are two regions, Rioja and Priorat, that have a higher designation, DOCa (Denominación de Origen Calificada). Excerpted from Pintxos: Small Plates in the Basque Tradition by Lisa Weiss, Gerald Hirigoyen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.